Traveling through the dark under an overpass on my way to Tacoma a few years ago, I heard a gun go off or an enormous backfire, or 270 firecrackers going off simultaneously.
My sig oth keeps asking when I am going to get my windshield repaired.
Even East of Eden comes to an end, eventually, at which time you have to find something to do to amuse yourself if you aren't the driver.
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